In her sermon yesterday, Ruthie, the Associate Minister of Families and Children at our church, told us about an informal survey taken of the kids in the youth group. Out of the thirty-five kids who responded almost half indicated that they had no place in their lives where they could just be. With emphasis on excelling at school work, sports and other extracurricular activities, teenagers in our church feel that there is not a safe place where there is no expectation of accomplishment, a place with space to think and talk and listen in order to process all that they are experiencing.
As I listened to Ruthie, a conversation I had overheard on Saturday crept into my mind. Two young moms were talking about their kids activities. One had said no to her kids regarding playing a specific sport because they were too busy. She was almost apologetic about her decision, but she felt affirmed because her kids seemed to have accepted her decision.
As they commiserated about their busy schedules, miles driven and unrelenting commitments, I was reminded of my own children who are now grown with lives of their own. My two oldest sons are nine and ten years older than the third son. The difference in our culture between the time my husband and I raised the oldest two sons and when raising their younger brother was startling. All three experienced pressure to excel at school and in extracurriculars. However, the pressure in ppm–pounds per minute–for our youngest son was overwhelming. And he graduated from high school 12 years ago. It must be close to unbearable now.
The pressure in our culture is building woodpiles for our kids. Woodpiles built of unrealistic expectations and overbooked schedules. Then there’s the pressure to get into the right college to get the right degree in order to get a good job so they can make a lot of money. In the meantime they are losing the best part of themselves in that woodpile. Nevertheless, this woodpile of tremendous ppm is a very difficult place to leave.
What about us, parents and grandparents? Are we building woodpiles for ourselves? If our kids are busy then we’re busy chauffeuring, purchasing uniforms and costumes and equipment and instruments, filling out forms, writing checks, and attending games and performances. We are probably busier than our kids because we have our own lives to lead as well. It’s not hard to see why we don’t have time to listen to, talk to, be with or love our kids simply for who they are. This woodpile is also a very difficult place to leave.
How can we get out of these woodpiles? To paraphrase Nike: Just Stop It. Stop going and doing. Not all at once, but gradually begin putting on the brakes. Make space in your schedule for just being. Perhaps it’s family dinner once a week. Perhaps it’s going to church as a family once a month. Perhaps it’s no technology one night a week. One little change at a time. Baby steps. Whatever baby step you decide to take, commit to do it three times in a row–three weeks, three months, three days. A baby-step commitment. Then reassess. Tweak your plan, if necessary. And make another go at it for three times in a row.
Gradually the woodpile will begin to disappear. You may be just as busy, but with a little more space, there will be less ppm and more talking, listening and being. And loving.
Kay
Woodpile Kitty 